


Get Her To The Greek

by softly_speaking_valkyrie



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Battle, Combat, F/F, Fighting, Fingering, Gay, Grinding, Kissing, Lesbians, Orgasms, Romance, Sex, Smut, queer, warfare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 09:00:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16720326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softly_speaking_valkyrie/pseuds/softly_speaking_valkyrie
Summary: Kyra leaves her Rebels alone to intercept a small convoy moving the Nation Chest of the Athenians around Mykonos until she is aided by Kassandra. After that, the two find a secluded spot to the north to express their true feelings for each other. Kyra can’t help herself and needs to top her loving misthios…





	Get Her To The Greek

Kyra fired her bow, eyeing the Athenian’s head and splitting it with a defiant and striking, enflamed arrowhead. His head was decimated in no time and Kyra smiled from her perch inside the bushes of the small brush. Taking out another arrow and lighting it with a quick flint, Kyra fired it into the Athenian accompanying the first. The small entourage of blue-clad footmen was baffled as to where the arrows were coming from until it was too late.

There was a signal from the other side of the valley - a small flare arrow with a lit head soaring into the sky to let Kyra know she wasn’t alone for this mission. More arrows flew from the opposite cliff of the ravine into the bodies of all the Athenian soldiers guarding and transporting the Nation Chest from one fort to another. Podarkes was taking a risk, and Kyra was leading the rebels to take advantage of it, to steal thousands of Drachmae.

“Kassandra…” Kyra said to herself as more arrows rained down on the Athenians. She saw her beautiful and beefy compatriot jumping from the treeline and propelling herself into a melee battle with the Athenian soldiers.

“Kassandra!” Kyra cried, standing from the brush and walking forward, taking three arrows from her quiver and slanting her bow to the side, launching all of them into bodies to protect her friend. She walked slowly into the skirmish, pulling arrow after arrow from her quiver and firing, not having time enough to light the clothed tips aflame.

Firing the final two arrows from her shortbow, Kassandra pulled out her immaculate blade - the Sword of Damokles - and began to slash away at the wandering and rather clueless soldiers attempting to stop her. Kassandra was an unstoppable force, something that none of the soldiers could stop as soon as she made contact with them. As Kyra slowly stepped into the fray she felt a hot flush immediately take to her cheeks as Kassandra began to clash blades and kill Athenians. Kyra was mesmerised already by how her friend, the way Kassandra moved through the enemy and cutting them apart was like a primal and captivating dance with blades and her beautiful hair.

Kyra became stuck, a little, focusing on Kassandra’s flowing hair, the way her hair held the tail of it flicked around her as she spun in a transcendent performance. The fire in the misthios' eyes was powerful, hungry and so powerful it nearly put Kyra on her knees. She had to use reactions and sleeping muscle memory to dodge and parry attacks coming her way with her short dagger. An Athenian brought his blade to her only for the strong rebel leader to riposte him with a cut to his throat.

The skirmish was more like a swift execution. There were no Athenians left and the nation chest being hauled by them was stationary on the dirt. “If I were a betting woman, I’d say you were following me around Mykonos, misthios,” Kyra greeted Kassandra, crossing over corpses to where her friend was - sitting alluringly on the lid of the nation chest.

“Who, me? I think you might be mistaken… I simply heard the Athenians were transporting their war chest across the island and decided to pay them a visit, to help… ‘rescue’ some excess Drachmae…” Kassandra flirted shamelessly as she reached into the ornate locker and pulled out a pouch of coin. “Podarkes must have his taxes high if the chest is filled with this much gold…” She continued, smiling and even giving the rebel leader sensual eyes.

“Oh… So the Drachmae was what enchanted you here?” Kyra teased, crossing Kassandra and pulling the pouch from her hand. “And here I thought our little escapade near the waterfall yesterday wasn’t enough to tie you down. I can only imagine how lacking this week would have been if the Spartans were here and you were not,” the tall and beautiful archer exchanged, fidgetting with the end of Kassandra’s tail of hair. She loved how it rested over her shoulder almost perpetually. It was delightful to always see.

Kassandra leaned back, and then sharply forward, catching Kyra’s hands in her own and holding them close to herself. “Oh, I came for you, Kyra… The Drachmae is what I’ll tell everyone else…”

Alluring and still heated from the dance of battle, Kyra pushed herself forward, pressing her lips sensually to Kassandra’s lips. “Then how about I tell Thatletas and his detachment that the northern coast needs us both for the coordination meeting tonight?” Kyra played, like a playful feline-like temptress with smooth lips and smokey eyes that told so many silent things to the stoic and willing. She was the perfect recipient to Kyra’s bold and pressing advances. The pair were both as bad as each other, hungry and needy for touch.

The strong misthios sensed the warmth from Kyra’s lips the more she waded in for a kiss, touching and pressing her hands into the battleplate of a Spartan war hero that Kassandra was wearing. She wanted it off.

“Or how about we don’t wait that long…”

Kassandra was whispering, her voice willing and slightly submissive for Kyra. “I’ll send a note with Ikaros, the remaining Spartans can deal with this…”

Kyra smiled into the kiss, loving what she was hearing. “Perfect, then come with me.”

Warm hands came to the upper bust of Kassandra’s exposed chest, ripping the battleplate from her bosom and exposing her. With claws, Kyra ripped the wrappings that contained her lover’s breasts to shreds, fully leaving her nude and vulnerable. Kyra leered at Kassandra as she pushed her to the ground, hands coming to cup those exposed breasts, holding her bosom with glee - cupping her warmth lovingly and with hunger.

From her breasts to her cheek, Kyra moved her bold and warm hands, cupping her lover dearly and kissing her desperately with such a need it seamlessly burned inside of her.

“You are mine tonight, Kassandra…”

Kassandra’s breath was a misty fog as she spoke in a teased and roped haze - driven wild for Kyra already the more the rebel leader pressed down to her. She had let her hair down completely but was adamant that Kassandra would keep her braid for her. Pulling at the misthios' jaw, Kyra fished for another series of kisses with all tenacity, and Kassandra obliged, obediently and with already wanting lips of her own. The more they kissed, leaned against the broken high wall of the ruined lighthouse in the northern tip of the territory of the island of Mykonos, the more Kyra held her lover’s cheek, stroking the beautifully textured flesh and clumping a grasp of Kassandra’s breasts to knead in her hand. Kyra knew what she wanted and went for it. She was tired of feeble and intolerable men. Kassandra was what she always knew she was looking for - no one could compare with the powerful mercenary and what she had offered Kyra by merely appearing in the Delos territories. The Adrestia was like a chariot hauling her in from the beautiful Aegean.

“I am all yours, of course… Kyra…” Kassandra sighed, having her hands fall to her lover’s waist. “My hands are all yours…”

Kyra hummed sensually, her core bristling with desire. “Well in that case… Stop talking and put them to work, misthios…” She spoke softly, in a sultry whisper as she straddled the powerful Spartan, pulling the gown of her tunic up above her haunches and love handles, pulling her loincloth apart at the seams and letting her navel breathe the cool air of the summer night. With her free hand, Kyra pulled at Kassandra’s, directing her touch to between her legs, where wetness had gathered in abundance.

Her core was singing, begging already to be touched sweetly, and when Kassandra’s delicate and generous fingers touched parted and seeping folds, Kyra hummed audibly, shivering with succulent delight as she felt the release seep through her lover’s fingers.

She shivered again, wrapped in the warm embrace of her pristine and godly woman. Kyra held Kassandra in her in her arms, tightly and with a desperate grasp that told the strong and muscular misthios that her touch was right and making the Rebel Leader wet and indeed sated for lust and desire. Kyra was still shuddering as she held Kassandra so closely and so tightly she could feel the lover’s heartbeat intersect with her own. And more and more, Kassandra warm and caressing fingers interloped her succulent folds, slipping into Kyra’s honeypot and stirring her sleek and silky wetness in strokes of long and drawn-out love. Their lips called, as they looked deeply into each other’s eyes.

“Kassandra…”

“Kyra… You’re so warm…” The strong and expertise misthios felt herself whispering, kissing and tracing her lover’s collarbone with the outlines of her lavish lips. Her handsome face and godly eyes were glowing in the cosmic hue the bare night’s sky cast down on them. The light of the large moon was their stage light on the barren beach with the ruins scattered around them.

They often came here to throw off clothes and hold each other, away from the political sphere of Mykonos and the feud between the Rebels and Podarkes and his Athenian soldiers. They were not like the normal forces and the pleasant lot that Kassandra had encountered whilst in Athens. The demise of their leadership had eroded all sense of honour and sanity from the minds of many Athenians.

“You’re so strong, Kassandra… I feel… I feel safe in your grasp, I feel whole in your arms. Your embrace makes me feel like I finally breathe like a woman… A free woman…” Kyra raspily confessed, her lips coming to form a seal around her lover’s neck as she bit into her with an insatiable lust for her lover’s body. She couldn’t remain off of or away from Kassandra, her body was a magnet to Kyra, and her continuing strokes between her legs were making her hum like the rowing repetitions of a Trireme.

Kassandra quickened her technique, increasing the pace of her fingers and the rate of which she could pleasure her lover. Kyra pushed herself against Kassandra’s fingers, even pushing her to the ground in a shove of dominance and lusty power. As she did it, Kyra’s own muscles flared and flexed a little in her biceps and upper collarbone. She took to the knots of her tunic and pulled them apart, and then again at the small leather belt around her supple waist, loosening it lavishly in a sultry display.

The misthios smiled. Kyra did the same back as the tunic flowed from her like a waterfall of olive green until she was completely naked.

With a leer and strong hand, Kyra reached for Kassandra’s wrist, holding it tightly and her hand between Kyra’s own plump thighs, cushioned by Kassandra’s navel and the luxuriance of Kyrra’s vagina.

“This hand is mine,” Kyra told her lover matter-of-factly, as she began to buck her hips and grind her centre around Kassandra’s digits, taking them inside of her in a rotary fashion, stirring the built-up of wetness. “These fingers are mine, they belong to Kyra,” she again stated with a slight trickle of her Rebel Leader authority. Kassandra was smiling the whole time, however, she remained down, her hands serving Kyra as she moved her body around the fingers, taking them into her folds and gasping sensually for more air. Kyra let out a lusty moan, long and drawn out into the air, reaching down with her free hand to grope at Kassandra’s muscular chest, her ample breasts needingly, kneading her hand into the softness of the bosom. Kassandra even moaned with Kyra gripped one of the peaked nipples with harsh fingers. “All mine, misthios,” Kyra teased evermore, bringing her palm to cup Kassandra’s cheek as she thrust herself against the hand buried in her dripping silk.

“Yes, my love,” Kassandra affirmed, opening her mouth to advances of Kyra’s finger. She sucked on the thumb when it came between her lips, her eye watching Kyra, bewitched as she gazed down at her mercenary lover.

More intensely did Kyra grind upon Kassandra tightly pressed hand, letting go of her wrist and coming to grope again at the mercenary’s breasts while the woman laying down sucked on Kyra’s thumb as if it were her silk. The Rebel leader had her way with Kassandra’s bosom, kneading into the soft and plump, yet muscular flesh of her ample boobs. They were so soft and appealing to Kyra, as was her lover’s mouth, still gently sucking on her thumb as if obediently. It became a synonymous song, the verses of a proclamation as Kyra used Kassandra’s had as a tool with which to stir her wet folds, making them seep of sweet wetness. She shuddered quicker and with more vigour as time went on, shuffling over her lover’s body until her hands came back to the wrist, keeping Kassandra’s hand forcibly in place as she mounted it and ran it between her legs.

With a mighty heave and a gorgeous crescendo of moaning ecstasy, Kyra felt her body pulsating through the barrier and into a realm of orgasm, her release climaxing through her inner walls and shuddering her into extensive exhaustion.

The aftershocks of her orgasm were a polite and welcome lull, pleasure wave after wave rippling through her naked body as she set herself onto Kassandra’s bare chest, clutching for comfort. Kassandra held her lover closely, pulling for the rag of a blanket they had brought with them for warmth as Kyra began to shake. Kissing her gently, Kassandra let out a small hum with Kyra in her arms.

“I am all yours, Kyra…”

“You are a gift, Kassandra… Something Poseidon deemed I needed. And I am glad he found me worthy of you…”

Kassandra kissed Kyra lovingly, pulling her closer and cuddling her tightly, warmth and godly love spewing from the misthios into the gorgeous leader. “I don’t think any of the gods could ever find you unworthy of anything. I certainly don’t.”

“You came and I was longing for you. You cooled a heart that burned with desire…”


End file.
